


Talk

by Moonliel



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Boys Kissing, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, POV Second Person, pillar pair - Freeform, pillarpair, tezuryo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21866854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonliel/pseuds/Moonliel
Summary: "It's not every day your buchou tells you to stay after practice."Mild TezuRyo Pillar Pair
Relationships: Echizen Ryouma/Tezuka Kunimitsu
Kudos: 32





	Talk

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on ff.net Feb 2008

It's not everyday your buchou tells you to stay after practice. He hardly ever speaks to you directly either, now that you think about it. Most of the talk is through tennis, which is okay since you both seem fluent in that language. Through out the rest of the practice you wonder what he wants to talk about. Despite being somewhat distracted you make a point to not miss any shots against Momo-senpai, simply because you know the older boy would continue to bother you about it if you had. It looks as if practice was ending already. The rest of the freshman are left picking up the scattered balls while the other tennis players make their way off the courts and into the locker room.

You stay on the court a little while longer, bouncing the tennis ball over and over on the side of your racket as you stare off into the sky still wondering what your captain wants to talk to you about. You can hear Kikumaru-senpai yell out 'Hurry up, Ochibi!' and you turn your head and make your way to the locker room. Almost everyone is already gone, all looking forward to the weekend without practice. The rowdy red-head waits until you're closer then springs quickly onto you, latching onto you like some kind of leech. You squirm as much as you can, hating so much physical contact and manage a strangled 'Itai! Kikumaru-senpai…can't …breathe…'. The older boy lets go suddenly, already having his fill of his daily 'Ochibi hug'. He asks you why you were spacing out and staring at the sky. You give him a pointed look and mutter an excuse, saying 'no real reason.' It seems that he buys it and lets you off. Momo-senpai comes and joins the both of you, asking the acrobatic player if he wanted to go get some burgers after school. The cat-like teen is quick to agree, the practice making him hungry. They invite you along too, but you decline, saying that you have some research to do for a paper. You don't know why you lied. It wasn't as if Tezuka-buchou wanting to talk to you after practice was a secret. Sure, the older tennis player hadn't announced it, but that didn't make it a secret either. Something inside you just made you lie about it, that was all. Maybe you just didn't want to deal with them annoying you about it later. Yeah, that had to be it. They bid you farewell without much more hassle and you turned back to your locker.

No one else was around anymore, not even the captain. He was probably overseeing the freshman or talking with Ryuuzaki-sensei about their practice. Not having anything else to do after changing you sit down on the only bench in the room and take out a can of Ponta from your bag. You always make sure you have at least one can of your favorite drink handy at all times. After taking a few sips you notice the club house door open. A sliver a light appears first then the teen who made you wait instead of getting free burgers from your senpai's enters the room silently. You stare at him as he continues to place his things away and collect his materials all the while still drinking your grape-flavored drink. You don't hide the fact that you're staring at him either, and if he happens to be nervous because of it then it's his punishment for making you wait.

You stop drinking and only hold the can in your hands loosely once he turns to look at you. Your eyes meet and you feel rooted on the spot. Never had you seen the older boy look so intense outside of a tennis match. You feel your breath hitch and idly wonder what that warm, fluttering feeling in your chest is. He moves closer, still silent. Didn't he say he wanted to _talk_ to you about something? So far he was doing a poor job about it. He takes the can from your hands and places it on the floor out of reach. Those eyes of his hold your own and you find that you can't get your mouth to say anything about him stealing your drink.

The wonder starts wearing off though, but by then his face is directly in front of yours. Your golden eyes blink then stare at him with an equally intense expression. You don't know if his stare is a challenge or not, but you choose to take no chances and make sure that he knows _you're_ challenging _him_. Your neck is craned up looking at him from under the rim of your white cap as he stares down at you. You feel your face heating up slightly from the unwavering stare he still sends your way and suddenly you feel very uncomfortable without even knowing why. You finally open your mouth to ask him what he wanted to talk about, but before you could even utter a word his hand is on your cheek. Your mouth stays open, suddenly inoperable as you feel the warmth from his hand seep into your skin. You feel the somewhat rough patches of skin on his hand from playing tennis. It feels nice, you admit. His lips quirk up slightly.

Your eyes widen in surprise as he swoops in and places those quirking lips directly atop your slightly open mouth. Now you're more rooted on the spot than when he first looked at you. Slowly the warmth and soft sensation from those lips upon you affect you in a way you never thought that you'd feel. That warm fluttering feeling returns with a vengeance in you chest as you press your own lips against his. The frames of his glasses graze your face slightly, but you don't mind since he's rubbing a finger over your cheek. Something wet touches your lips and it feels warmer and more like velvet than his lips did. You don't really know what you're doing, but you open your mouth just the same. His tongue enters and swirls around yours. You try to kiss back the same way, even if it is a little clumsy. You wonder if he has done this before, but he really doesn't seem the type. You both remain lip-locked together until you run out of air and you break away. You found that your hand had wound through his silken, brown locks and his other hand was resting at your waist. You look at him again and let out a little smirk. His face is slightly flushed, his eyes are glazed and gentle, and his lips are redder and moist. You unconsciously lick your lips at the sight and you feel a nice warmth of emotions rush at you. You're happy this happened, despite the suddenness of the declaration. He holds out his hand and you take it as you both gather the rest of your stuff to go home, the can of Ponta forgotten on the floor.

'Ah, so this is what he wanted to talk about', you think as you both head out the club room hand in hand.

_End._


End file.
